


Que Sera, Sera

by mmouse15



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2019-02-02 15:42:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12729444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmouse15/pseuds/mmouse15
Summary: Jazz thinks about what might have been.





	Que Sera, Sera

Title: Que sera, sera  
By: mmouse15  
Rating: PG  
Universe: G1  
Characters: Jazz, Prowl  
Wordcount: 449 words  
Notes: _Saudade (Portuguese): The feeling of longing for something or someone that you love and which is lost._  
But specifically, _one can have saudade of someone whom one is with, but have some feeling of loss towards the past or the future._ (from [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saudade)). So, yeah, plot bunny gone rabid. I hope you enjoy.

 

Jazz leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms under his chest, watching the focused movement within the war room. The eye of the storm, the calm in the center, was Prowl, leaning over one of the tables, pointing out troop movements amid the topography the area.

"…and if we use this hill as cover, we can come in on the flank of this unit, which gives us the advantage of hitting them where their armour is weaker and taking the focus away from Ironhide's group."

"Yes, Prowl!" the mech that spoke ran over to the comms group, where Blaster was relaying information and orders to Optimus' army.

For a moment, Jazz was overwhelmed by what could have been if there wasn't a war going on.

_Prowl was an enforcer, Jazz was a street performer. The enforcer had pulled the musician over after a long night of partying, testing him for inebriation and reminding him that driving while intoxicated endangered not only himself, but the mechs around him. Jazz would laugh off the warning, flirting with the gorgeous enforcer and asking him out for energon. Prowl, of course, would refuse, since he was on duty._

_At the end of his duty shift, Jazz would be waiting in the lobby of the station and repeat his offer of energon. Prowl would probably refuse, but Jazz wouldn't give up, continuing to ask anytime he was in the city. Eventually, Prowl would agree, and their friendship would begin, growing slowly, learning from each other the ways to be together. Jazz would dance for Prowl, sing to Prowl, blaze the light of his enthusiasm on life. Prowl would show Jazz the benefits of a life well-lived, the beauty of order in the chaotic stream of life, the quiet moments that refresh the spark. Their friendship would grow slowly as they wove the threads of their lives together._

Jazz ached for that slow build, for vorns of knowing each other, for the intimate knowledge that came from knowing someone for so long. A sharp thrust of grief for a life that would never be ran through Jazz's spark, and he closed his optics as the feeling ran through him. When he opened them again, Prowl was looking straight at him.

_::Are you alright, Jazz?::_

_::'M fine, Prowler.::_

Prowl watched him for a moment longer, then returned his attention to the table, and Jazz pushed away from the door, immersing himself in the thrum of room. This was not that life. Instead, it was a life of instances, quiet moments snatched between the chaos of war, blips of life between the overarching reality of death and destruction. It was not would could have been, but was.

Finis


End file.
